Pieces Mended
by itsXelle
Summary: Mitchie has been devastated by a life of a sexually abusive, drunk father. She hides her depression with a smile, her insecurities with a kiss, can she be fixed? Will things ever go back to how they were? Can Shane help her to forget? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1

**"Another false alarm, red flashing lights. Well this time I'm not going to watch myself die." Buried Myself Alive - The Used**

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Pieces Mended

Chapter One

"No!" She cried desperately, "No! Not again!"

The words came out of her mouth breathlessly and unnaturally. Her heart raced with anticipation as she inched herself away from his rough out stretched hand. She stumbled backwards, almost sending herself tumbling as she desperately hobbled backwards to avoid him, but she knew there was only so much further she could run before there was no where else to go. She had back herself into a corner.

"Stay away!" She screeched in a blood curdling tone. "Stop!" She screamed, back to the wall.

It was hopeless, and the tears fell like bullets as her grabbed her roughly and mercilessly.

She shut her eyes tight, knowing what was to come, what had happened so many countless times before. She closed her eyes so tight that she swore she could see her own mind racing. A hand slid around her wrist tightly, causing a burning sensation rushing through her wrist first only to be echoed throughout her whole body, as she was tossed like a rag doll to the floor. Her warm tears rushed faster down her face, her eyes glued shut, but his cold heart wouldn't care about the shaking girl beneath him on the floor; the girl who ached with years of torment and memories. He would care nothing of it tonight, nor tomorrow morning when he awoke from his drunken haze.

"Shut up you dumb bitch!" He demanded, bending down and slapping her harshly across the face while struggling to keep his clumsy balance.

He harshly grabbed her tear stained face with a calloused hand, squeezing her cheeks roughly, using his other hand to maintain balance while bent over. All the time she lay whimpering between his feet, praying it would just end.

He turned her face up towards his own, showing no mercy as he whipped her head upwards. "Look at me you piece of shit!" He slurred, the alcohol on his breath stinging her nose as she breathed it in. Reluctantly her eyes flicked open and she glared at the hated face floating above her own. He wore a smirk on his face, his eyes slightly hazed and drooping from the large quantities of alcohol consumed, but behind the fog was the apparent lust and amusement.

It was sickening.

He was amused by what her was doing. He had no regard for her. He didn't care. It was just his game, it was a sport, a hobby to him. His favorite hobby.

His hand loosened it's grip on her cheeks and slid down as gently as was possible at the moments until it rested on her throat, right at her trachea. Slowly, he lowered his body to straddle her, the hand previously used for balance stroked the side of her face tenderly. A grin came to his face slowly, and he replaced his hand on the floor next to her head, the hand on her throat softly squeezing. She gasped at his actions and his head tightened it's grip. Suddenly, he was choking the life of of her. Her feet struggled as he squeezed tighter and tighter like a boa constrictor slowly killing its pray with suffocation. She struggling harshly below his body, pleasure flashing through his eyes at the sight. Her face began turning colors from the lack of oxygen and her body started to give up on it's mighty battle. Suddenly, the hand was released and his mouth was hungrily sucking the soft skin on the neck over the new bruises, nipping harshly at the skin and causing her to suck in her pain.

His hands drifted clumsily up and down her body, grabbing roughly at her curves and fumbling with her thin clothing, ripping it unforgivingly from her small frame and then removing his own clothing. All the time she lay there, silently weeping, eyes closed and hoping for it to just be over.

XXX

She awoke in the morning with a sense of panic when her alarm clock buzzed fitfully on the nightstand to her left. She quickly pounced to silence the alarm before he would hear. She looked around, slightly impaired from sleep, making sure he hadn't stirred yet. He wasn't there. She sat up and placed a hand to her neck she was sure would be badly bruised, but felt nothing. None of the anticipated pain lashed through her as she had fully expected. She breathed relief, realizing it had all been a dream after recognizing where she was. At least this time it wasn't real, but she was scared of the next time, when it really does happen... again.

"Mitchie! Time for breakfast!" She heard her good spirited roommate Caitlin call from outside the door of their cabin. "Get ready fast!" She added on.

"What time is it?" Mitchie mumbled really only to herself glancing over at the little antique, gold alarm clock which was knocked over on the night stand.

"Eight o'clock, sunshine! Now hurry!" Caitlin replied assuming the question was directed at her.

Mitchie sprung up quickly from her bed and into action, clearly frazzled and confused.

"Eight o'clock?! I set my alarm for seven! What happened?!" Mitchie almost yelled, running about the room in a mad dash to get ready.

"Well last night you must have been having a really bad dream, you were practically screaming," Caitlin explained with a little worry in her voice. "I figured you'd probably want some extra time to sleep so I moved your alarm an hour later." She said shrugging.

"What?! Why?! You know it takes me forever to get ready!" Mitchie exclaimed in a stressed tone.

"Ya, I know," Caitlin started simply, "but you might want to hurry today... breakfast is in 15... well actually, 10 minutes now!" She said almost in a serious tone, raising her eyebrow.

"Caitlin! Ugh! I hate you right now! You know that?!" Mitchie exclaimed tossing a pillow at her friend as she sauntered towards the door.

"Love you too, bitch!" Caitlin said cheerfully, "See you in nine, I'll save you a seat!"

"Caitlin!" Mitchie shouted in frustration as her friend waved a quick goodbye while shutting the door. Mitchie just sighed.

"God, that girl's gonna pay!" She murmured after turning her back to the door to continue getting ready.

"Who's gonna pay?" A playful voice sung in from the door. You turned around and your eyes widened. You couldn't believe how much he had changed!

"Hey beautiful." He added with a smile at your pleasantly surprised expression.


	2. Chapter 2

**"But as for all inside your wounded soul, he's never ever gonna let you go." He Loves You - The Pretty Reckless**

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Pieces Mended

Chapter Two

He stood there like a dream in the doorway to your cabin. A soft glow caressed his body and seeped into your room around his figure. Of course you knew it was just the light being filtered in from the oddly dim, rising sun, but his presence appeared to you in such an angelic way, you were unsure if it was really him, or an apparition appearing to you.

"Hi." You said softly while nervously stroking your upper arm with the opposite hand.

"It's been a while." He stated simply as if unaware or maybe just unfazed by the awkward anticipation.

"Yeah." You cringe at your lack of ability to come up with anything more than a one worded response.

"How have you been?" He searches for conversation material desperately.

"Okay." You shrug, again cursing yourself for not even just talking to him, but rather, being unable to.

He sighs heavily and runs a stressed hand though his thick locks. "Really, Mitch, really?" He fumes a bit attempting to maintain his composure. "Why won't to answer, at least with something somewhat substantial."

You roll your eyes, frowning inwardly, and honestly? You don't know. He leaves you at a loss for words. You should not be the one who is angry. He is trying so hard to make an effort, make a true and honest effort, and you? You are pushing him away just like you always do. Why you have this tendency is unknown, even to you. You push everyone away from you. You crave rebellion and freedom but relationships, even friendly ones, are like chains of restraint to you.

You just want to be free.

Free from what? You honestly do not know. Maybe you fear commitment, maybe you want to be able to do as you please, when you please, but you do not know.

"God, Mitchie, why do you do this?" He shoots back allowing his frustration to overcome him. He almost scolds you with his words and his sharp tone.

"Do what?" You challenge back, going on the defense.

"You always pull this shit Mitch and I'm tired of it." He continues, basically ignoring your question. "You push everyone away. Anyone who cares is a threat to you, aren't they? You have no faith in anyone or anything. You are cold and insensitive and hardheaded and deceitful. You trust no one with anything and you just don't give a flying fuck." He rants now, "So why the fuck do you do it Mitchie? Are you so insecure that you don't want anyone to gain any insight to your heart? Are you scared of your feelings? Are you scared to give yourself to someone, wholeheartedly? Are you scared you'll get hurt? Just tell me something, anything, please!" He begs you, "Please enlighten me, because it has been killing me. Slowly killing me, all these years. You know it's been 3 years, 1 month and 24 days since I last saw you? And not a day went by that I did not question my sanity for still loving you." His guilt trip turned into more of a confession than what he originally intended and he awkwardly bit his bottom lip as if to keep him from saying something more.

You stood there silently, completely dumbfounded.

He loved you? Does he still loves you? How is that even possible? You couldn't even fathom the thought of love, much less how someone could love you.

"You loved me?" You questioned in a raspy voice from your tight throat. You felt on the verge of tears and you really didn't want to cry in front of him.

He shook his head from side to side in a said 'no' and you knitted your eyebrows together confused at in conflicting admissions.

"No," he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing on. "By saying 'loved' would imply that i used to but don't anymore." He looked up and took in your deep brown eyes recognizing the confused expression on your face and your parted lips ready for question. "I couldn't have 'loved' you, because it isn't only past, it's present too. I love you Mitch, and I honestly do not know why."

You winced slightly at the end of his sentence. Even he couldn't understand how the hell he could love a bitch like you. His words sting you like acid and you look down to a random spot on the ground in order to avoid eye contact.

"God, you can't even answer me." He groaned, "Fuck! You can't even look at me!" He threw his head back and spun around quickly to recompose his thoughts, the silence biting bitterly at you.

"Forget it." He huffed. "Just forget it! I thought maybe you had changed, that maybe you had matured and grown out of this fuckin' adolescent state of mind, but god damn it Mitchie, you're still the same fuckin' little 16 year old girl who doesn't know how to feel. You are a cold hearted bitch! I can't stand you, you are so-so..."

"Fuck you Shane!" You burst out suddenly. Enough was enough. "You have no right to judge me the way you do!" The stressfulness and pent up emotions finally got the best of you and suddenly angry tears were spilling from your unwilling, sharp eyes. "You have no fucking clue who the fuck I am or what I have had to deal with. I bet you had no fucking clue that my father died when I was only a year old in a helicopter accident and that my whore of a mother married my step-father less than a year later who she had been cheating on my father with anyways! Oh, and here's the real good part!" You spit, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, "I bet you had no clue that from the time I was only 8 years old, my step-father beat and raped me when he came home late at night, drunk, while my mom was working the night shift!"

Shane's face dropped, and instantly he felt absolutely terrible for saying the things he had said to you.

"I'm so sorry..." He began.

"Don't be." You say viciously. "I'm just a cold hearted bitch, why should you care?" You state pointedly, quoting his words before pushing past him and out the door of your cabin.

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**Okay y'all, yes, I am very happy that you are enjoying my story (those who reviewed) but do you even understand how discouraging it is to find only three reviews for your hard work then look at your view count to see a couple hundred people read it but failed to even say 'nice work, keep going' or even anything? I simply cannot find inspiration to take time out of my crazy life to write for the enjoyment of others if those people simply don't care. **

**So what is it? Are you just reading this and saying 'OMG, epic failure, this chick sucks at life and writing' or are you too lazy to write even one short sentence when i write hundreds of them for you?**

**Updates might start coming once a week, but to get the next chapter i must get at least ten more reviews on this chapter. Shouldn't be hard I hope to just make it 13 little reviews. Come on y'all, please?**

**Anyways, I hope you are enjoying this story, if you have questions feel free to ask but just so you know, I may or may not answer them depending on what you ask. Sometimes I mean to make you confused as to what happened and in the next scene it will all unfold for you and you will how one of those enlightening "OH! I get it now!" moments. :]**

**So next chapter at 13 reviews?**

**XOXO**

**Elle**


	3. Chapter 3

**"Out of the house, she grabs her keys, runs for the hills and doesn't leave a letter, that way the impact will be much better. Away from the man that she's grown so fearful of." Down and Out - The Academy Is...**

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You are furious as you stomp all the way across the camp grounds. Away from _him_... You cannot believe he had had the nerve to say the things he did to you. What right does he have to come in pointing fingers at a girl he doesn't even know anymore? None. He has no right, you decide.

It's times like this you wish you had never even decided to come back to this God forsaken camp. You thought maybe being back at your "second home" - as you had so quaintly put it - would help fix things, to help make you, well, you again. So far though, all this camp has done is rekindled things you had hoped to hell to never deal with again.

You glance quickly around to make sure no one is watching you are you enter the deserted rec center of the camp. Whenever you are feeling down or like the weight over the world is hanging on your shoulders, you always knew that this little cabin would be waiting for you with open arms. You inch your way slowly up the old, creaky, wooden stairs that you know like the back on your hand, running your fingertips over the matching, paint chipped, adjoining rail. A shiver runs down your spine as you stop at the door and shut your eyes lightly. All the memories rush back to you all at once. Every victory, and every defeat you had at this camp had been shared with this little translucent structure on the edge of campgrounds. Every song you wrote was auditioned to the emptiness and tranquility that surrounded you. This was the soul of your Camp Rock existence, something that would never leave you.

Your hand caresses that handle before you before you establish your grip and lightly, but forceful turn the golden nob and push the rusted hinges open. The scene that unfolds before you is one that you do not remember to be in the past. The once happy and sun-filled room is now decrepit and bleak with cob webs clingy hopelessly to the corners of the room wishing not to be disturbed. As you step into this changed atmosphere you remember the days when the campers ran wistfully around the camp, exploring every inch of the property, and pushing their boundaries of desire. Kids wandering in and out freely from the rec center, stopping in occasionally to practice a dance for final jam with some privacy or looking for a creative and lively atmosphere in which to be inspired to write a new song. You remember the days when life was much easier, and you were young and in love, so you thought, and even though you had demons in our life, the good and light always out weighed the bad and the demons stayed put with the skeletons, tucked away in their cozy closets.

Now, however, the room seemed so dejected and depreciate. You thought it funny that a room's mood could match yours so precisely and be so in tune.

You stumbled though the light layer of dust that had collected in the room to your old friend who sat alone and miserable in the corner. You sit, slouched over the little stool before her, leaning over, brushing the collected dust from her face.

"You've been so neglected, haven't you?" You say despairingly, pulling but the black glazed wood panel, covering the keys of the piano. It is your only true friend at camp, you think to yourself. She knows all your secrets, all your songs, all your pain, and all your joy. She is the only one who truly know everything about you, all your secret desires and hopes and dreams. She knows everything you feel.

You lift a hand gently to her keys in sad disbelief. How could no one use this room, use her? It's so lonely.

You sigh, bringing your head down as an old man who has given up on life, and know, accepts that death is on his doorstep. It will only be moments before he embarks on eternity, but oddly he's okay with it. And so would you be.

A moment lapsed before you raise your now tear streaked face. Being in this room, and the dream you had this morning is just too much for you to bare. You need to just breathe, you need a release.

You strike one cord, and the another, and another. There is just something on your heart and you have got to let it out before it buries you alive. Suddenly you begin a song. The words just flow from your mouth without you even thinking. There is no logic to this madness, all you know is that this is the only way you can speak what's been haunting you for so long. The words just keep coming, seamlessly and as naturally as a well know song, sang a million times over:

_Out of the box, out of the kitchen_

_Out of the world she's grown so fearful of_

_So fearful of_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_I don't ever want to see you again my friend_

_This is the end_

_Out of the house, she grabs the keys_

_Runs for the hills and doesn't leave a letter_

_That way the impact will be much better_

_Away from the man that she's grown so fearful of_

_So fearful of_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_Why do I wear sunglasses in the home_

_When the sun went down about an hour ago?_

_Why do why I wear sunglasses in the home_

_When the sun went down about an hour ago?_

_Life should not be that way_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_You dream of demons while you sleep_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Speak now or forever hold your peace in pieces_

_Now that I'm grown_

_I've seen marriages fall to pieces_

_Now that I'm grown_

_I've seen friendships fall to pieces_

_Weekend warriors and our best friends_

_The writers weren't kidding_

_About how all good things must end_

_Then again some things_

_Then again some things are far too good_

_Some things are far too good to go ahead and let go_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Speak now or forever hold your peace_

_We won't forget Tony or Johnny oh oh_

_No matter how they miss us_

_They still wish us the best on the road_

_Garrett took a plane to Paris, France_

_Now he's cookin' up entrees for the pretty, pretty French girls_

_Bookends, Blue and Clarity to The Wall and Grace_

_Dark side, Wish and a toast to late figure eights_

_Weekend warriors and our best friends_

_The writers weren't kidding_

_But the good things will live in our hearts_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_(Never down and out)_

_That make you stutter when you speak_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_(Never down and out)_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Always up or down, never down and out_

_Dream of demons while you sleep_

_They'll make you stutter when you speak_

_Speak now or forever hold your peace in pieces_

By the end of the song you are sobbing seeing the truth behind your own cryptic words. You lay your head in your hands and shake as you wish for the pain to just leave you already. You just wish-

"Hello?" A voice booms. "Mitchie, you in here?"

You gasp softly realizing you are no longer alone. You struggle of the wooden stool you had sat upon, swooping up the things you had brought along with you to the little room. Quickly, you run as silently as you can to the back door and shut it softly just before the rusted hinges squeak open on the opposing side of the room. You don't even stop to think, you just run, run as fast as your legs can carry you back into the inner camp grounds and straight to your cabin. There is no way anyone can see you in the vulnerable state you were in, and you hope to God that whoever it was did not hear the song you just sang. Oddly, you were in so much shock, you realize that you didn't recognize the voice, and even stranger, you cannot even recall wether the voice belonged to a male of female.

You just hope to God they did not hear you.

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**Hey sorry if it's been a while. I just am trying to space out chapters so I don't get burnt out and give up. Thank you to all my reviewers! It means so much to me, and you are all awesome! Thank you for helping me hit my goal of 13 reviews! I knew y'all could do it! I hope you love that chapter. The song she sings is Down and Out by The Academy Is... and it's basically one of my favorite songs ever. It is so well written and has such a good meaning behind it about getting away from abuse and how you may be down, but you are never down and out. It's awesome! Listen to it, it comes highly recommended. I've loved it since the day the song came out.**

**Anyways, how about 28 for the next chapter? that's only 4 more than I asked for this past time! You can do it! And how about some substance to it? Tell me what you like, what you want to happen, what you think will happen, yes?**

**XOXO**

**Elle**


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